The Home Team
by Queenafoster
Summary: There's them...and there's us


The Home Team

Nick was only just able to stop himself from rubbing the tight spot in his neck in frustration. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders slightly to resettle his sport coat—and hopefully his attitude—and pasted on his best imitation smile as he pushed through the crowd of 'perfect' people.

He hated these stupid get-togethers. Places to see and be seen that masqueraded as 'parties.' Just a bunch of idiots who had more money than sense wanting to show off and drink. Well, that last part he could certainly understand on occasion, and he might investigate doing just that if they hung around much longer. Cody and Murray would just have to show the rest of the world that the Riptide Detective Agency was up to snuff because Nick was done with the dog and pony show.

He squeezed in at the bar and snagged the only remaining stool. "Gin and tonic."

A minute or so later, the bartender set the drink on a cocktail napkin. "Rip? Is that you?"

Nick glanced up at the man with too long blond hair and gray eyes. "Bonnie? Bonnie Bonham?"

A smile erupted to show slightly crooked teeth. "How ya doin', Nick?"

"It's been a long time, man; how you been?" Nick reached to shake his hand.

"Good. Sure never thought I'd see you again—'specially in a fancy dive like this."

Nick waved off the room behind him. "Just here with my partners for business. Where've you been keeping yourself?"

"Here and there. Around."

From further down, "Excuse me, bartender, I'd like a martini please."

Bonham held up one finger in the direction of the request. "Didn't I hear you joined the Army? How long you been back in L.A.?"

"Since I got out in the late seventies. My grandmother died when I was overseas, but I didn't really have roots anywhere else. Figured here was as good a place as any."

"Bartender, I'd like a scotch and soda."

"Can we get some service down here?"

Bonham looked along the bar with irritation, "Listen, I gotta get this. You gonna be around for a while?"

Nick glanced back at the 'party' and caught sight of Murray flinging his arms in the air in some kind of geek dance. "Sure, man. Do your thing."

Nick sipped his drink, waiting for Bonnie to get a second to talk or his partners to be ready to leave. Looked like it might be a while for either possibility. He eyed the ballgame on the small T.V. behind the bar; great thing about sports was that you didn't actually need sound to follow the game. Mariners and Twins. He wondered briefly why it was tuned to that game. Surely, a couple of National League teams were playing. Even if you couldn't get the Padres or Dodgers, the Cubs or Braves were usually on cable. While he speculated on the game selection, he kept track of Bonham working the bar. When Nick finished his drink, he switched to beer, and Bonnie stayed on top of it.

Walter 'Bonnie' Bonham had played backup defensive back on the Lincoln High Cavaliers—one of the team, but not first string. Defense, not offense. Accepted, but not a true part of the group Nick had run with. Of course, as it turned out, Nick hadn't really been part of that group either—he'd only thought so at the time. Seeing Bonnie brought back all the sad and bad memories of the reunion and everything that came out of it.

That football team and the friendships built on it had meant the world to a young Nick Ryder. After his mom died and he'd come to California to live with his grandmother, Nick had trouble fitting in—his parents were gone, his accent was weird, and they never had any money. He'd managed to get along, but that's all it was…getting along.

Until he went out for football his sophomore year and became friends with Deke Martin. The coach slotted Nick as a tight end, meaning that he got to do it all…work with the offensive line and the wide receivers and the backs. Deke was a wideout, and the coach worked them on passing routes and blocking. And being a blocker was what Nick was best at…blocking for Deke. Yards were plentiful on a short pass to Martin with Ryder leading the way, blazing a trail for his best friend to score. Celebrating in the end zone with Deke and Flight Bag and Cranberry and even Beeber, Nick couldn't help but smile at the good memories of that time and those friendships.

And Bonnie was there. Except that Bonnie played defense, and that was a different group of guys. They were all part of the team and did stuff together, but it was different. Nick sighed, remembering; none of the defense was part the drug business either. For that reason alone, Nick felt for the first time that maybe he'd played on the wrong side of the ball.

"Hey, Nick! Nick!"

Nick turned to find a beaming Cody squeezing in beside him.

"Where've you been, man?" Cody turned back to Bonnie. "Can I get a martini, a Manhattan, a strawberry daiquiri, and three beers?"

Nick eyed Cody's wide grin and couldn't help his own smile. "I been right here. C'mon, you know this isn't my kind of scene."

Cody squeezed Nick's shoulder, pulling him close, "Nick, Murray and I are sitting with three amazingly beautiful women. And I promised to bring you back with the drinks."

"Cody, chicks like this, they're not real. It's all fluff and plastic."

"It's not much different from bikinis and suntan lotion, buddy."

"Yeah, but the bikinis aren't trying to be snobs about it."

"Nick, they're beautiful, and they want to spend time with us. Is that really such a sacrifice?" Bonnie returned with Cody's drinks just in time to hear him finish with, "Come on, I can't carry all these on my own. Help me out here, huh?"

Nick eyed the glasses and his best friend with a reluctant grin of agreement. He glanced back at Bonnie with a smile. "Bonnie, this is Cody. Cody, this is Walter Bonham, a friend from school."

Cody startled at the introduction and looked at Bonnie in surprise. "It's, uh, nice to meet you."

Bonnie nodded in return, "You too."

Nick pulled out a card, "Listen, call me, we'll get together. It's been too long, man."

Bonnie shoved the card in his shirt pocket. "I will. Good seeing ya, Nick."

Bonham stared at the card again and then looked at the scene in front of him. What he was seeing made no sense at all.

Running into Nick Ryder last night had thrown him for a loop. The last he'd heard, Ryder was off for Army training right after graduation, likely headed to Vietnam. Stupid, boneheaded idiot.

Ryder was a jock, a tough kid who'd moved into the neighborhood from…Chicago? Detroit? _Somewhere _after his parents died or dumped him or something. The guy had had a chip on his shoulder from the first time Bonham saw him on the playground as a kid. And when they got older, Nick had played on that stupid football team, getting in good with the other idiots who played first team offense. (For himself, Bonham had only been on the team to meet girls. Otherwise all that practice was just too much like work.) Practically the whole damn bunch had had to go to summer school just to graduate, and then Ryder had been stupid enough to join the Army.

And not long after Nick left for training, Bonham's number had come up in the draft, and he'd hit the road to Vancouver. At some point, he'd briefly wondered about the guys from school who might have bought it fighting in his place, and Nick Ryder was surely one he expected was probably dust. After all, it wasn't like the guy was smart enough to go to college and get a deferment. Or head to Canada like Bonham.

After he'd gone back to bartending last night, Bonham kept an eye on his former teammate sitting at the end of the bar. Ryder had mostly just watched the baseball game, tuned to the Twins and Mariners because those were teams Bonham got used to watching when he was up north. Ryder sat quiet, sipping his beer, in the middle of this stupid 'party' thrown by some rich guy celebrating a big deal he'd just made. What the hell was a dumb jock like Nick Ryder doing at a big wheel deal like this? Even with summer school, the guy had barely made grades to graduate…or was that Beeber? Cranberry? Whatever, those guys on offense were all the same stripe anyway.

Still, Bonham wondered if he might be able to find a use for Nick Ryder in his upcoming business plan. Probably nothing important since the guy was dumb as a post; Bonham vaguely remembered Ryder got caught for cheating in math or something like that. But surely Bonham could come up with something if only to keep Ryder around to use as a patsy if things ever went south. His former teammate's role in the enterprise would just depend on what he did for a living these days. Being at a big money party, Ryder either had ready access to cash (unlikely) or knew someone who did (which was still hard to believe but easier than the first choice.) Either way, Bonham needed information.

Because he had plans—_really_ big plans. All that was left to figure out were the details on how to set up his drug empire. He had contacts in Guam, Mexico, and Central America; it was just a matter of getting up a group of dealers and figuring out the routes to bring in the product. And probably some other stuff too, but he'd figure all that out as it came up.

Bonham kept trying to get a second to talk to Nick, find out what he was doing these days and how he got to be at the stupid party, but the other guests kept their bartender hopping. Nick didn't seem to be in any hurry though, and he wasn't doing the flirt and chit-chat routine. Looked kind of bored and just sat watching the game, sipping his beer, until a tall blond guy squeezed in and ordered a round. He and Ryder started talking, and when Bonham brought the guy his drinks, the two of them left for a table with three pretty ladies…and a nerd? What the hell was super-jock Nick Ryder doing with a geek like that?

Before he left the bar, Ryder gave Bonham his card and told him to call. Nick Ryder had business cards? Seriously? Even pre-supposing that Nick might make enough money to rate being at the party in the first place, it just didn't jive with the ignorant tight end Bonham remembered. But it had been…what? Fifteen or twenty years since they'd graduated? Bonham had certainly changed a little; he supposed even someone as shallow as Nick Ryder could too.

Bonham hadn't been back in L.A. very long himself. After the war was over, he'd considered returning home, but it just seemed too chancy before Carter issued the pardon. Several people in the area were aware that he'd headed north after receiving his draft notice, and there were just too many other places he wanted to see first. Canada was too damn cold to live there for much longer, so he'd taken off to see the world…and make a little money in the process. Unfortunately, the last part of that equation hadn't quite worked out. Oh, he'd made the money all right, but something always happened, and he ended up shafted and broke.

Which was how he came to be tending bar in Guam and sleeping with an American drug dealer's bored wife. When her ignorant husband managed to get himself killed, she'd persuaded Bonham to accompany her back to the states. To L.A. Figuring that after all this time he'd probably never see anyone from the old neighborhood in a city as big as his hometown, he'd done as she asked, believing she had money enough to keep them in clean sheets. As it turned out, she actually wanted Bonham to go out and provide for her. Like he was responsible for giving her what she wanted? Not hardly! So he ended up dumping her two weeks after coming home. And not having a lot of ready cash, he'd taken the job bartending at the fancy club where he'd run into Ryder last night.

And now he was standing in King Harbor, Redondo Beach, staring at a card that read, _Riptide Detective Agency._ Nick Ryder grew up to be a sleazy P.I.? Who worked off a boat at the beach? The guy was just one or two generations past dago white trash; how the hell had he ended up living at the beach? From ignorant army grunt to a boat in King Harbor? It just didn't make sense.

Bonham finally decided that Ryder must have gone crooked somewhere along the way. He was Italian after all. Maybe he'd already worked something illegal in 'Nam or in the army and that gave him the cash to set up his reincarnation as a wealthy beach bum. The blond guy certainly looked the part—_Surf City, here we come_. Still, where did the geek fit in? Regardless, a P.I. could be counted on to know the streets and have contacts with some of the slimier elements. Such a person might be very useful when Bonham was ready to set up his dealer network. And the boat would come in handy when it came time to bring in the drugs.

Bonham sidled up to the gate that led to a boat named _Riptide_. Pier 56, Slip 7. Just like it said on the card. Down on the boat, he could see three men sunning themselves on the back. Or was it called the end? Rear? Whatever. Must be Ryder and the guys from that stupid party. Bonham shrugged; only one way to find out.

"Hello? Is the Riptide Detective Agency?"

Cody raised his head and squinted one eye open as Murray dropped his reflector and jumped up.

"Yes! Please come aboard. I'm Murray Bozinsky, and these are my partners, Cody Allen and Nick Ryder."

The man seemed vaguely familiar; medium height and build, longish blond hair, light eyes. Cody couldn't remember when or where they'd met.

Nick sat up from where he was lying on the wheelhouse deck. "Bonnie! Hey!"

As Nick jumped down to the afterdeck, Cody flashed on the party last night, hosted by a recent client. This was the bartender Nick had introduced as a friend from school. Meaning he might have been at the reunion a couple of years ago.

"Murray, this is Walter Bonham. We graduated together. He was on the football team with me."

"It's very nice to meet— Oh! Umm…" Murray tried to hide his startle and dismay, but he never was very good at disguising genuine emotion.

Of course, Cody felt as flabbergasted as Murray while Nick kept talking, covering his partners' shocked silence. In their brief introduction, Nick hadn't mentioned that Bonnie was on the football team. Cody caught Murray's alarmed gaze and then turned back to pick up the conversation between the reunited teammates. From how Nick was talking, Cody got the impression that Bonnie had not been at the reunion.

"…you want to stay for dinner? We were just gonna order pizza."

"The Pepperoni Man's having pizza? Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Cody couldn't help but grin as Nick rolled his eyes at being called one of the _many_ nicknames he'd had in high school. At one point, Cody and Murray had tried to count them, but they finally decided they couldn't remember them all…or hadn't even _heard_ them all, so why bother?

"I wouldn't want to put you out."

Nick waved him off and smiled, "No, really—stay. It's just pizza."

Cody stepped in, "Hey, Nick, I forgot to tell you; Joanna called earlier and wants me and Murray to go over those surveillance tapes with her."

Murray's slack face stared at Cody. "She did? What tapes?"

Cody looked back at Boz and raised his brows significantly, "The _tapes. _Ya know, the _tapes_."

"The tapes…? Oh! The tapes! Right!" He turned to Nick apologetically, "_We_ can go see her, and that will give you and…" he stumbled slightly over the unusual feminine nickname. "_Bonnie_ a chance to catch up. Isn't that nice? Yes, that's very nice. How _wonderful_ that you ran into each other after all this time. What a coincidence that you were both at that party last night—"

Cody interrupted Murray's conversation whirlpool. "So we'll just change and get out of here." He pushed Boz toward the stairs. Murray's feet finally caught up, and he climbed to the wheelhouse. As Cody passed Nick, he felt a quick squeeze on his shoulder, and he glanced back to return Nick's hidden smile of gratitude.

Nick set the pizza boxes on the table and headed down to the galley. "Make yourself comfortable. Beer okay?"

Bonnie sat on the bench seat, "Sure, whatever ya got."

Nick opened a couple of bottles and tossed the caps in the garbage. In the two years since the disaster that was the Lincoln High Fifteenth Reunion, Nick had finally gotten a little perspective. Sort of. Of course, he still missed Deke; he still felt betrayed by Sid, still…felt mystified by how they all changed so dramatically. He washed his face with one hand and tried to shake off the mood he got every time he thought of the reunion. And what came after. He headed back up to the salon and focused on Bonnie.

"So, how ya been, man? Where ya been?" Nick opened the two pizzas—one with everything and one with ham and pineapple. Boz had come to love the pineapple after Cody made him try it, and now it was practically a weekly order for the Riptide boys.

Bonnie wrinkled his nose at the fruit topped pie and grabbed a couple of slices from the Supreme. "Around. All over."

Nick closed the pineapple box; more leftovers for his partners. "I don't remember hearing anything about you at the reunion."

"We had a reunion?" Bonnie blinked in surprise.

Nick nodded slightly, "Yeah, a couple years ago. You haven't heard about that, huh?"

"No, I split town right after graduation; didn't get back till maybe a month ago. How was it?"

Nick took a bite of the pizza, but talking about the reunion made him lose his appetite. A better idea was to turn the subject back to Bonnie, "That's a long time to be gone; where'd you go?"

"Oh, everywhere. You ever been to New Zealand, man? That place doesn't even feel like it belongs on this planet. And Singapore…the women over there, I'm telling ya, unbelievable."

Nick picked an olive off his pizza. Bonnie left after graduation…meaning he probably took an extended tour of Canada right off the bat. Well, lots of guys did that when they couldn't get into college. And that choice may well have saved Bonnie's life. Nick didn't like it much, but... Well, he'd lost way too many friends Over There that he wished had run off to Canada instead; at least they would be alive even if Nick never got to know them. "My overseas travel was done at the direction and expense of Uncle Sam and was pretty much limited to where the Army decided I should go."

Bonnie locked eyes on Nick, probably trying to decide if Nick held it against him. But Nick just smiled as genially as he could, no accusation or sarcasm intended.

Bonnie nodded slowly, "Yeah, I heard that was pretty rough."

Not wanting to drag down the conversation, Nick's shrugged, "I got some good out of it too."

One brow lifted, "You're the first guy who's ever told me that. What'd you get?"

"The Army taught me how to fly helicopters, and I met Cody."

Bonnie looked a little lost, then, "Cody… Oh. The, uh…the guy who left."

Nick nodded, then quirked a brow at Bonnie's baffled expression. "What?"

"Well— He just didn't seem like the type to be over there."

Nick shook his head slightly. Once again, Cody's blond good looks and seemingly carefree attitude had typecast him. "Don't sell him short; you'd be surprised."

"And that other guy? Murphy? He looks a little out of your weight class. Sure not the kind of guy you used to run with."

Nick couldn't help his smile, "Yeah, well, _Murray_ is great. Don't know what we'd do around here without him."

Bonnie shrugged, clearly stumped. "Did you say you can fly a helicopter?"

Nick nodded, "I always wanted to learn, and the Army taught me how. Sure couldn't have afforded the lessons any other way. I've got an old Sikorsky I take up now and then."

Bonnie seemed impressed, "Your own chopper—that's pretty cool. I got to know some pilots when I was traveling. Nice skill to have. Easy to find a job, I guess."

Nick wondered where Bonnie was going with the topic. "Yeah. A guy with a chopper can always fly cargo or passengers or work traffic or something. Be a pilot for a corporation or T.V."

"Cargo…yeah, that's what I'd do. Be my own boss."

"I did that for a while, but it's pretty relentless. It'll wear ya out."

"That when you went into the detective business?"

"I did the tourism thing first; ya know, fly people around the harbor, see the sights. And that was okay, but I don't like having to hustle to find passengers. That gets old."

Bonnie looked thoughtful, "Still, people would be used to seeing your helicopter in the air, wouldn't think much of it."

Nick focused on him, trying to understand what he was trying to say…or not say.

Bonnie blinked when he caught Nick's stare. "I mean, you'd be the first guy they'd think of if anyone wanted a tour of the coast."

Nick nodded slightly. That wasn't anything like what Bonnie had said. But, he supposed he could give the guy the benefit of the doubt…and pay damn close attention. It almost seemed like there were two conversations going on, and Nick wasn't sure of the direction of either one.

"So you said there was a reunion?"

Nick tried to hide his distaste at the change in topic. "Yeah. It was really something."

"See any of the old team? The ole Cavaliers?"

"Yeah."

Bonnie stared at Nick for a second, then grinned. "You don't want to talk about it, do ya? What? You're the only one who got old?"

Nick winced slightly, "No, nothing dumb like that." Knowing it would have to come out, he tried to decide how to tell the tale. "I'm the only one who didn't get rich."

"Come on, with all the numb nuts in our class, they couldn't all have made tons of dough."

"Well, turns out the drug business is pretty lucrative."

Bonnie's eyes lit up in shocked excitement, "Who?"

"Half the guys on offense."

Bonnie blinked and then burst out laughing, "You had me going there for a minute."

"Not kidding."

"Sure. I can just hear the reunion conversation…'I'm a bartender, you're a private detective, he's a drug dealer."

Nick had lost all interest in the pizza and tossed his crust in the box as he finally told Bonnie about the reunion, leaving out the part Nick had played in taking down his former teammates. That still hurt too much.

"Deke's dead? And the chem teacher was in on it, too? Man, that's unbelievable."

Nick drained his beer. "Yeah."

"Wait a minute…you ran with all those guys; why didn't they bring you in on this deal?"

Nick just sat, trying to control his whirling emotions. Anger and grief were running neck and neck. He shook his head briefly, "Just lucky, I guess."

"Lucky?"

"I'm not dead or in jail."

Bonnie shrugged slightly, "Yeah, there is that. Too bad they got greedy, or they might not have been caught."

Nick just stared at him for a minute, "Yeah, too bad." He suddenly remembered why he'd never been close with Bonham. The guy was always looking for an easy way out—even if it meant cutting corners or cheating or breaking the rules. He would've been right at home with the California Cavaliers, Inc.

"So, is the detective business all glamorous like on T.V.?"

Nick eyed the salon, "Does it look glamorous?"

Bonnie glanced around, "Well, no, but I never really pictured you living at the beach or on a boat. This ain't your grandma's house."

Nick had to laugh; growing up in the neighborhood, he never would have expected to end up on the Riptide either. "You're right, but being in the Army as long as I was, a guy learns that he doesn't want to take orders or live in a box. There's something to be said for having a little freedom. Knowing you can just pick up and go wherever you want really lets a guy breathe."

"Pick up and go… Yeah. Ya know, if the team'd had a helicopter and a boat like this, I bet it would've been a real asset in their business."

Nick tasted bitter acid in his throat, "Yeah?"

"A mobile base of operations. And pretty hard to follow a chopper. Would make transport and getaways a lot easier."

Nick felt dread roiling his gut. "Yeah. They should've called me."

The boat was dark when Cody and Murray returned that night. Nick and his friend must have gone out after dinner. Which hopefully meant they'd had a good time. Knowing Nick and Bonnie had a lot of catching up to do—and that some of it would likely be painful for Nick to revisit—Cody and Boz had given them privacy and spent the evening at Straightaways, trying not to worry about their friend.

When most people looked at Nick Ryder, they either saw a carefree beach bum, working to improve his volleyball game, or a cynical tough guy, quick to anger or pick a fight. What very few understood was that Nick had a code of honor, an internal set of expectations and guidelines that were never broken. When Nick set himself a goal, Cody just as well considered it done. When Nick gave his word, Cody could make bank on the promise. And when Nick Ryder called someone 'friend,' he meant it for life; that years had passed since they'd had contact meant nothing. While Nick tended to be a skeptic about many aspects of life, true friendship escaped his innately suspicious nature. He'd considered his teammates to be friends; learning that they'd turned into crooks had been a severe blow.

Nick's grief for the loss of Deke Martin—and his other friendships from that time—was one of the worst nights they'd ever had on the Riptide. Though Cody and Nick had lost many friends in Vietnam, it was War, and to a certain extent, they'd hardened themselves to that pain while in country. But that was Over There, and they no longer saw death on a daily basis. Cody hadn't seen Nick come apart like that since '71 or '72 and even then the emotion usually manifested as anger or a fight or destruction of property. Nick's inner strength was one of the foundations of Cody's existence, and to see him so devastated—grieving—had shaken Cody as well. Sadly, Cody had only been able to offer useless advice that sounded trite even as the words left his mouth; Murray sat by helplessly and then reinforced Cody's stupid clichés that offered little or no comfort. But Nick was so upset at that point that he'd grabbed onto their feeble suggestions and support like a lifeline, and he somehow managed to get through that night and the next few days.

Of course, what the rest of the team did after Deke's death was even worse. Using Nick to report their 'deaths' in an attempt to get out from under Frank Moran's threat was heartless and coldblooded. Despite being abandoned by his father and then losing his mother and grandmother—even after Vietnam—Nick couldn't imagine that kind of callous cruelty from people he'd once considered friends. Clearly, their definition of friendship did not match Nick's. And he paid for that naiveté in the pain of their betrayal.

Cody had privately worried that Nick might question the relationship between the three partners. If his former _friends _had deceived him like that, couldn't Cody and Murray do the same? Fortunately, that question had not come up—as far as Cody knew anyway. Nick certainly never gave any indication that he distrusted their relationship, and Cody prayed that his friend never had any reason to doubt their own little team onboard the Riptide. He just hoped that being with Bonnie tonight didn't reawaken these demons in Nick's recent past.

Murray was following as Cody descended into the dark salon and turned on the lamp.

"Have a good night?"

Cody startled in surprise.

Nick. Sitting alone in the dark.

Cody didn't know what to think. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

Sure didn't look like it. Cody saw…_nothing_…in his best friend's eyes. The only time Nick hid his emotions like that was when he was planning a sneak attack against an adversary. And Cody immediately noticed that Nick was sitting in the same spot as that long night after he found out about Deke and the team. Cody glanced at Boz and found his own worry reflected back. Clearly, something was very wrong. Murray nodded slightly for Cody to take the lead.

Cody sat on the end of the bench where Nick had his legs folded. He squeezed Nick's knee. "What happened?"

Boz pulled up the chair, his eyes dark with concern.

Nick focused on something outside and winced slightly, folding his arms in an almost self-protective pose—a barrier between him and his partners. "You guys think we make enough money?"

Boz just looked bewildered. Cody didn't know what to make of the mixed signals he was getting from Nick. Empty eyes said fight, but the folded arms meant Nick was expecting an attack. Surely not from Cody and Boz? And Cody kept flashing back on Nick's utter vulnerability after Deke's death.

"I mean, I know we're covering our bills and keeping Mimi and the boat and the computers happy. But don't you think we should have something put aside for a rainy day?" Nick's voice had a hint of both sarcasm and loss at the same time. Or maybe sarcasm to hide the loss.

Murray blinked and pretended to shake off his confusion. "Well, our quarterly tax forms show that we're doing—"

Cody held up his free hand to interrupt, "Nick, what's going on?" He squeezed Nick's knee a little harder to get his attention.

Nick chewed the inside of his jaw for a few seconds before turning back to face them. And Cody saw a bleakness that made his heart turn over.

"You guys want to go into the drug business? Or if you'd prefer guns, we can certainly open that up as a side thing. We'd be like a convenience store for illegal goods in King Harbor. I hope you guys are good for it, 'cause I told Bonnie we'd do it. He promises we'll be rolling in money."

Murray's face transformed from worried to shocked to sympathetic in a heartbeat as Nick turned back to the window.

Hiding his face from them. Trying to hide his pain from them.

Cody shifted to rest his arm on the back of the bench and get a better look at Nick's profile. "What happened, buddy?"

Nick sat a few more seconds, clearly trying to get to a point where he could keep his voice steady. And eventually, he got there. "Bonnie went to Canada after graduation. Pretty sure it's 'cause he preferred the frozen North to Southeast Asia. And after that, he just kept right on going. He's visited all the hotspots and still has contacts all over the world.

"And he thinks _I'm_ the perfect guy to help him set up a great little operation here in King Harbor. With possibilities for expansion, of course."

Boz's jaw almost hit the floor. "_You_?"

Nick barely gave him time to get that out before he continued, "Yeah, the Cavaliers were just a bunch of dumb jocks for not seeing the potential that _we_," at this point he twirled his finger around to include the three partners, "_We_ have here. _We _are perfectly situated to become key people in Bonnie's new organization. If the old team hadn't been so greedy, they would have seen how ideal our little setup is." Nick's face was deceptively serene, a completely and totally peaceful façade for the turmoil Cody knew was churning beneath.

Cody had no words to express his empathy, his outrage that Nick had once again been flayed open by someone who was supposed to be a friend.

Nick bit his lip, trying to maintain control. "See, I've got Mimi, and she's perfect for transport and can even be a getaway vehicle if we should ever need one—perish the thought. Of course, we won't ever need to get away 'cause we're gonna be smarter than the average drug dealer.

"And Cody, don't forget the _Riptide_ and the _Ebbtide_; we can also use the boats for bringing in stuff because you're always taking them out for charters—perfect cover, huh? And since you're nothing but an ignorant beach bum anyway, I don't even have to _tell_ you how I'm _using_ you if I don't want to. I can just do all of this behind your back while you cover my ass with fishing trips and working on your tan. And 'cause you're so stupid, I don't even have to share the money with you either. My choice, of course.

"Now, Boz, Bonnie thinks there might be a _really_ cool spot for you in our organization. I told him you're a genius and that we probably couldn't keep you in the dark, so you're gonna do the books. And if you can swing it, he wants you to handle product quality control. 'Cause see, that's where we really make the dough. It's all about cutting the heroin so there's just enough narcotic in each hit to allow the poor dumb addicts to get high. And with your scientific background, Bonnie thinks you're just the guy to find that sweet spot."

Nick turned back to the window and blew out a long slow breath.

Geez, the self-control Nick would have needed to scam all that information out of Bonnie. Cody's hand had been resting on the window sill, but it moved almost by itself to squeeze Nick's arm where it was still folded across his chest. "I'm sorry, Nick."

Nick shook his head slightly, "What is it, do ya think? Was there a secret club at Lincoln that I never knew about? 'The Future Drug Dealers of America'? They didn't have a page in the yearbook, I can tell ya that."

Cody squeezed the arm again. Nick was being flippant, but it was just to cover his deep hurt.

Nick pressed the fingers and thumb of one hand into his eyes, like he was trying to rub out an image. "Ya know, Murray, except for Natalie, I don't care if I ever see any of my classmates again."

Murray's eyes were sad, "I know she's coming to the next High Q meeting 'cause I told her you're gonna be there."

"Probably not a good idea, Boz. I'm not smart enough to get the jokes, and I'm too stupid to know the difference between friends and crooks." He raised one brow in question, "You guys aren't gonna tell me you're ax murderers or anything, are you? I'll probably move out if you do. Or I guess I could just go down to the hardware store and buy another axe so I can join up the next time you go out. Seems like destiny or something."

Murray looked about to protest, but he closed his mouth at Cody's negative shake. Nothing like a little self-loathing mockery to blow off steam.

"Next, I'll probably find out that Natalie is either the Wicked Witch of the West or Eve Harrington."

Murray's voice held gentle reproach, "Nick."

Cody didn't understand the Eve Harrington comment, but Murray apparently did, so Cody let it pass.

And Nick looked apologetic, "Sorry, Boz. I know she's not like that. Sorry. I just— I just don't understand. Is the whole world two-faced? Is everybody looking to make money off other people's pain and weakness? Did we just totally miss that seminar? Or maybe it's just the guys _I_ grew up with."

The encounter with Bonnie had taken Nick right back to the Cavaliers and the betrayal he suffered at their hands. Nick was again feeling stupid and deceived and used, just like the first time.

"Hey."

No response.

Cody squeezed Nick's arm again. "Hey."

Nick grudgingly turned back to Cody.

"Are you the same guy you were when you graduated?"

Nick aimed a soft glare at Cody. Finally, "You know I'm not."

"Then how can you expect the other people from your class to be the same?"

Nick blew out a defeated breath. "I don't. But we all came from the same neighborhoods, went to the same schools, had similar backgrounds. How is it all of them have turned out…like _that_…and I didn't? We did everything together in school, and I never saw _anything_ to give me a clue that all this was on the horizon." He shook his head in baffled frustration, "Am I _that_ different?"

Cody sat for a second and then glanced at Murray who pursed his lips as he considered. He nodded at Cody, and they both looked at Nick, answering together. "Yes."

Nick turned back from the window, startled. He started to answer but then shut his mouth when nothing came out.

Cody squeezed the arm he still grasped, "You are that different." He paused to let that sink in. "Murray and me, we know that better than anybody."

Nick's gaze settled on Boz who simply nodded, his eyes completely without guile. "Nick, you're the guy who draws the line in the sand. And you protect _everyone_ on your side of it—everyone who can't fight for themselves. You take up for the side of justice and equality and fairness. And there's no back-and-forth, wishy-washy indecisiveness in you. Don't you know how rare that is? I'm proud to be on your team, grateful that you let me stand beside you."

Nick rolled his eyes at Murray, but Cody nodded in agreement. Cody had previously tried to offer Nick stupid advice that was worthless the moment he said it. But maybe Murray's quiet explanation of one of Nick's core values would help him see a little light in the darkness…that Nick Ryder was one of the good guys, and nothing would ever change that fact.

Wanting still more light, Cody tried for a little humor. He shrugged slightly, "Why do you think I let you live on my boat?"

Nick was still digesting the turns of the conversation, and he took a minute to answer. "'Cause when Mean Mick Matthews hit you with a chair, I jumped on his back and almost tore off his ears?"

Cody couldn't stop his lips from twitching, remembering that Nick had hung on like he had a tiger by the tail—too dangerous to let go. Till Mean Mick had plunged backward into a wall and squashed Nick like a bug. And then threw him over the bar. Which was when Cody got back into their Batman and Robin act. _Tag, buddy; your turn._

Remembering that whole scene, Cody smiled, and he saw a crooked grin on his partner's face as well. And that was all it took for Cody to know…Nick would get over this, too.

But…"What about our new business venture? When are we gonna become drug runners?"

Nick sighed again, "We can call Joanna tomorrow. I'm sure she'll come up with a plan." He glanced back at the dark harbor once more before finally unfolding his arms and reaching for their hands. "Thanks, guys."

END


End file.
